Teen Hyde (High School Horror Story #2)(43)

She grinned. I felt a wave of guilt at the way she looked at me. Like I was a hero. The panic was now only lapping at me, surging and then receding in my veins. I felt helpless. Nothing I’d done was working. I was lost. Alone. All I could do was move forward and pray the ship didn’t sink before I got wherever it was I was going.

But I was taking on water fast.

I pinched Honor’s cheek and gave it a hard shake that left red indents where my thumb had been. She squealed in protest. Maybe, just maybe, we looked almost normal.

Outside the car, the sun microwaved my face. I lowered my head and trudged forward in my ridiculous black boots.

All this and I hadn’t even taken Sunshine last night. That was the only thing that felt true. And as proof, a round of tremors quaked through my body.

Now more than ever, I craved the flood of warmth I got when I’d first taken Sunshine. When I glanced around at all the smiling, laughing faces, it seemed like everyone else must have a secret stash. How else could they all be so darn happy?

From a few steps behind, I could hear the crunch of Honor’s shoes following me. The first bell rang as I entered through the glass doors and was sucked into the soulless hallways of Hollow Pines High.

I may have been losing my mind, but I didn’t think I was imagining the dozens of sets of eyes trained right at me. I moved; they moved. I hurried my steps.

I should be used to people watching me. I was somebody at this school, which meant that, for the rest of the student body, keeping up with my social life was practically a sporting event. But today was different.

I navigated the crowded corridors, trying to ignore the feeling that I was an animal at the zoo, trying to ignore the fact that I still couldn’t remember how I’d gotten to school.

Just go with it, I told myself, meanwhile wondering whether the cough syrup had kept me in a deep sleep last night and what I’d done with the strips of tape. Had I peeled them off? Cut through them? I couldn’t recall.

Paisley was leaning up against the locker next to mine, waiting for me. “So you’re alive,” she said.

“Morning,” I answered without making eye contact. I spun the dial on my combination lock three times until I heard a click.

“Nice try.” She pushed my locker door closed. I blinked at the wall of aluminum siding. “You caused two thousand dollars worth of damage to my mother’s wedding china. You are not getting off that easy.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Last night. Maybe staying home to study was the way to go.” My face must have gone ghostly white because she grabbed me by the elbow, turned me so that my back was to the hallway traffic, and drew me close. “What is with you?” she asked. Her breath smelled like wintergreen. “I don’t even recognize you anymore. The drugs. Your little stunt on the balcony.”

“Shit.” I pressed my hand to my forehead.

Paisley raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, now that’s more like it.”

“I—” My mouth tried to form itself around words. “I—I—last night—I was at—your house, then? I was at your house?” I pointed between us.

Paisley scrunched her nose and she let her eyes cast side to side like she was looking for someone to complain to that I was crazy. “Look, I know you’ve always kept up the reputation of a party girl, but don’t you think you’re taking it a bit too far? I mean, there’s the party train and then there’s the train wreck. Word to the wise, you, my friend, are off the tracks.”

“Shit.” She frowned. I didn’t have time to figure out what the stunt was that I’d pulled on the balcony. Or question how it was that Paisley knew about Sunshine. I had to grab tight to whatever ends I had left before I ran out of rope. “I’m sorry, Paize. It was a stupid joke,” I tried. She looked skeptical, but I pressed on anyway. “Tell your mom I take complete responsibility. I’ll pay for the damage.” How I was going to make good on that promise was a problem for future me.

Paisley’s lips parted. Then, they closed again. They opened. And then they closed. It was clear she hadn’t been expecting that response. Finally, she spoke. “Cassidy, we’re worried about you.” I rolled my eyes. Probably unconvincingly, but I rolled them anyway. “Okay, I’m worried about you. Tonight we have the play-offs and…” She hesitated. “Maybe you should step down. Give it up. Clearly it’s too much stress on you.”

I stiffened. “Give it up to who?” I asked. “You?” Her mouth was sealed. This time she didn’t stop me when I opened my locker door. I grabbed the notebooks I needed and stuffed them in my bag. “That’s what I thought,” I said. “I told you for the last time, Paisley, I’m fine.”

One of my cheeks dimpled in a half smirk as if to say to her, Don’t know what else to tell ya.

And I didn’t. I couldn’t give up the Oilerettes because giving up the Oilerettes felt like giving up, period. And if I started giving things away, I wasn’t sure what parts of myself I’d get to keep.

*

I AM FINE. I am fine. I’m fine. I’m fine, I’m fine. I’mfinefinefinefinefine.

“Uh, Cass?” I jolted at a tap on my shoulder.

“What?” I snapped, and then softened when I saw Ava peering at me. Outside the locker room doors, the crowd roared for game one of the play-offs against Lamar.